Dream by Night
by Incandescence2011
Summary: "The fact that he was marrying into one of the most influential dark families on the continent today was proving just how well political asylum was suiting Harry Potter."
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: No copyright or trademark infringement is intended by this story.

_Step one _

Harry sighed quietly as he sat on the windowsill overlooking the expansive terrains of the Krum Estate. The sky was overcast, grey clouds threatening rain and promising yet another vicious storm. Ever since the _Fidelius_ charm or its darker equivalent, of which Harry did not feel the need nor the want to know the particulars, had been cast over the Estate, sudden changes in the weather became common. The spellmaster had explained that the borders erected around the Estate would interact with the natural environment causing large fluctuations in the weather patterns. At least, this was what Harry had managed to glean from the rapid Bulgarian that was being exchanged back and forth between the three spellmasters hired for the task based on his three months dalliance with the language through Viktor.

_Viktor_ – at the thought of the Bulgarian seeker with his tall, broad frame and dark, brooding countenance, Harry's lips quirked into a smile.

_It seemed like yesterday that he was being pulled into a dark corner of Knockturn Alley, the moonlight casting violent shadows as his arms and legs flapped about in his attempt to dislodge his attacker, all to be silenced by the husky voice beside his ear, "Ve vill safe." _

He had never imagined how much those three words would change the course of his future. Three months later, he now found himself in his current predicament sitting on the Krums' windowsill.

Taking out a silver pocket-watch that pronounced the time to be exactly six in the evening, Harry stood up from the windowsill. He carefully smoothed out his black dress robes, made from the finest silk, which according to Lady Krum had been tailored by a seamstress in I'Orville, the French equivalent of Hogsmead, but exclusively accessible to the continental aristocracy. The robes were lined with a silvery substance, clearly magical from the way it seemed to move on its own accord whenever he moved about. As he left the small alcove that housed his favorite windowsill, a strong wind from the window picked up his robes making them billow with the same dramatic flair reminiscent of a certain Potions Master who hated his very bones. Harry could not help but let out a delighted laugh when he thought of how he had finally discovered the secret to the Slytherin's Head of House's sweeping turns.

The fact that there was a Dark Lord out for his blood and that the British light wizarding world had heralded him their savior against said Dark Lord was a given.

Harry was now walking past more ornate and elaborate rooms that characterized the majority of the Krum Estate. Blazing fires had been kindled by the innumerable house-elves in each room and hallway. He could feel the wild magic of the Estate thrumming in preparation for the event that was about to take place.

The fact that he was marrying into one of the most influential dark families on the continent _today_ before the largest congregation of continental purebloods ever to assemble together at the same place in a millennium was proving just how well political asylum was suiting Harry Potter.

He had reached one of the many doors that led to the main courtyard. Harry stopped and took a deep breath. Once he opened those doors, he would be entering a ceremony, which he had spent months memorizing in order to understand every single painstaking step that had to be taken. Harry's hands trembled slightly. But then he saw the pocket-watch in his hand and a sense of calm rushed over him.

"_Marry me."_ _In the small alcove, under the strands of starlight from the charmed stars twinkling above them, those large dark brooding eyes were still so guarded and the accent was still terribly thick and unsure. _

Harry grasped the pocket-watch tighter in his hand, holding onto its comforting weight and the promise made by its giver. He pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

In fact, this was the start of what Harry believed was going to give everyone – the whole world included – one very rude awakening.


	2. Chapter 2

_Steps Two_

_Chambord, France _

Two figures were moving quietly through the dark forest, pushing aside trees and stumbling on the occasional root that had evaded the soft glow of their _Lumos _spell.

"Ouch-" The smaller figure exclaimed as his head collided with an unsuspecting branch. His taller companion turned around with a worried glance and quickly came to his aid. "Arry-" his companion started, but was interrupted by sounds coming from behind the trees.

The older boy instantly pulled Harry behind an oak tree, hiding both of them in the opposite direction of the sounds. While both boys stood still, trying to calm their heartbeats, they heard the sounds distinguishable as footsteps coming closer to their hiding place.

Suddenly, fireworks erupted from the castle grounds, splattering the night sky in dashes of color. Harry gasped in surprise, but was promptly muted by his companion's gloved hands. But the fireworks seemed to have also captured the attention of their followers and the footsteps began to fade away as well.

Both Harry and his companion, now revealed by the fireworks to possess dark auburn hair and a deep set of blue eyes, let out twin sighs of relief. They looked at each other and then started to chuckle quietly at their near escape from discovery when a stunning spell was cast in their direction.

Harry reacted almost instantly with a shouted _Protego _while his companion had also put up a blue shield. Although they were caught in a situation, Harry could not help the nagging irritation and grudging awe for the older youth's ability to react to danger _silently_.

"Dubois?" The incredulous question was posed by their attacker, a stunning blonde whose flawless features instantly belied her Veela ancestry and who Harry immediately recognized as his fellow Triwizard Tournament champion, Fleur Delacour.

"Delacour" was Sebastien Dubois' curt acknowledgement of his surname accompanied by a nod in greeting. Despite only one week of training in pureblood politesse 101, Harry had managed to grasp enough of the fundamentals to classify Sebastien's actions as the so-called distant polite greeting between those of similar status.

Both sides lowered their wands after the abrupt greeting, but Fleur and Sebastien seemed to be locked in position, one obviously shocked by the revelation and the other, wary.

"You two know each other?"

When both sets of deep blue eyes swiveled on him upon the question, Harry immediately regretted saying a word. It was much less embarrassing to have them staring at each other, than to stare at him, especially when his words attracted Fleur's attention and her blue eyes narrowed in consideration before recognition dawned and her beautiful features became marred by a frown.

"Arry?"

Harry was relieved to note that at least his name was said much less forcefully than Sebastien's. He could still remember the Veela that transformed into Harpies when angered during the Quidditch World Cup and inwardly suppressed a shudder.

"Fleur, hi." Harry smiled self-consciously in greeting and carded his fingers through his hair; a gesture that Viktor had commented was a telltale sign of his nervousness.

Fleur seemed to be confused at his presence, but did not seem to hold him accountable for it because she instantly turned to focus her anger on Sebastien. "_Savez-vous ce que vous faites_? Do you know what you are doing?" she demanded angrily.

Sebastien only shrugged, unperturbed. "It is not your concern," he stated nonchalantly and Harry was grateful for his thoughtfulness, knowing that Sebastien remembered Harry's confession of loneliness at being surrounded by foreign people speaking languages that he could not understand.

However, seeing how Fleur's frown had deepened, Harry felt the need to intervene. "What Sebastien means to say is that we were just exploring. He has been tutoring me on pureblood etiquette and today was going to be a lesson on…" Here Harry trailed off because he seriously had no idea what kind of lesson would include walking in the dark forest on out-of-bounds territory.

"_L'histoire de la France_," added Sebastien smoothly.

"_Ne plaisantez pas s'il vous plait. L'histoire de la France? Et vous faites une promenade dans la nuit? __C'est absurde_. Do not joke please. History of France? And you are taking a stroll in the night? It's absurd."

"The Chambord Castle is right up ahead unless you disagree that it cannot be seen?" Sebastien arched an eyebrow in challenge. Harry sighed mentally knowing that his companion's actions were bound to incense the young witch further.

However, Fleur seemed to have recovered her composure or her previous experiences with Dubois had taught her to resign to the situation because her features smoothened and only her blue eyes betrayed her exasperation.

"Let me escort you to the castle then."

Harry glanced at Sebastien in dismay, fully aware that going to the castle was definitely not on their plan. But the slight shake of his head from Sebastien kept him quiet and he settled into trudging on the path leading towards the castle.

Fleur placed her wand against the floor of the path and muttering a spell, caused the edges of the path to glow softly in the same shade of silver as her waist-length blonde hair. "_Trop mieux_. Much better," she smiled in satisfaction. Falling into step with Harry and pointedly ignoring Sebastien, she said, "I do not understand why" and here another pointed look was sent in Sebastien's direction, "you have to walk in the dark to enjoy the history of la France."

"Er-" Harry tried to come up with an intelligible reply. Fortunately it was not necessary as the French witch gave him a brilliant smile while exclaiming, "Félicitations! Gabrielle et moi, we were at the wedding of course, but we were not exactly in the front row so we did not get a chance to say it personally to you!"

At the mention of his marriage, Harry's cheeks warmed into a blush and his eyes sought the silver band on his ring finger. Although it had already been a week since his finger had to adjust to the extra weight, Harry still found himself glancing at it from time to time in order to check that it had truly happened and that everything around him was real.

"It was very pretty too! The reception was fabulously done – Lady Krum is well-known for her parties, but the wedding reception was a new level entirely! Maman says that crystals became à la mode for this season immediately afterwards!"

Harry was perfectly happy to continue along the path with more praises of Lady Krum's style. It saved him the trouble of having to hold a proper conversation. Ever since assuming the additional title of Viktor's husband, Harry was expected to carry out the duties that came with being a member of the Krum family. Over the past week since his marriage, his days had been filled with lessons on proper behavior and speech, and Sebastien was indeed his personal tutor. The French wizard had graduated magna cum lade from Beauxbatons only last year. Although Harry thought that someone with as much class and intelligence as Sebastien would have more important and worthwhile things to do than to "cultivate" him, Sebastien happened to be in Viktor's closely-knit group of friend and according to Viktor, owed him a big enough favor to become Harry's personal tutor. Not that Harry could complain because his tutor happened to be skilled in the arts of dueling as much as in the arts of conversation, and most importantly, had proven to share Harry's ideals about the world and was just as addicted to the taste of adventure as the former.

However, Fleur's one-sided conversation suddenly took an unexpected turn when she grinned devilishly, asking, "And where is your husband?"

"He is detained."

"At the Geneva Conference-," Harry broke off when his answer clashed with Sebastien's. Groaning at the misstep now that Fleur knew that their escapade was not approved by Viktor, Harry tried to avoid both Fleur and Sebastien's eyes and stared fixedly at his feet.

Fleur must have decided to redirect her anger against Sebastien into torturing Harry because her next question took yet another startling turn, "How was the honeymoon?"

If possible, Harry's blush deepened further as the onslaught of memories rushed over him.

_They were in the newly decorated suite. It had originally been the young master's apartment, but Viktor had had the whole suite redesigned, apart from his study, which he had requested to be his personal space while delegating the salon to be Harry's. However, the bedroom and bathroom would be shared by them and after a game of Quidditch on the grounds of the Krum Estate in which they tied, it was decided that they would settle for royal navy and emerald. Harry had confessed to his favorite color actually being green to his great embarrassment and Viktor's serious gaze at attaining yet another one of Harry's secrets. The Krum heir's favorite color was blue and Harry had noted it down as another detail to be memorized about his new husband. _

_They had climbed on the bed, exhausted from the blood loss and intricate steps that had been taken during the ceremony. Harry felt like closing his eyes and succumbing to slumber. He knew that Viktor probably was just as drained as he was even if the Bulgarian was older and more physically fit than he was. Amidst the eyes of thousands, they had stepped into the circle, poured their blood sacrifices, and exchanged their vows. _

_However, they still had two more steps left before the ceremony was truly complete in the eyes of magic. _

_Harry turned on his side to look into the dark eyes of his husband. Viktor's gaze was as guarded as when he had proposed that night in the alcove, but both of them saw what they needed to see in the other, something that made this marriage more than just a convenience in assuring Harry's political asylum. _

_Never breaking their gaze, Harry leant forward to kiss his husband, a soft, innocent kiss that was deepened by Viktor whose callused hands, hardened by years of holding the wand and the broom, came up to better tilt Harry's head and intertwine their fingers together as their limbs began to tangle and everything became one single sweet and searing emotion. _

"Arry!"

Fleur's call broke through Harry's reverie and he turned to look at her, eyes still glazed from the memories. With a knowing look, Fleur did not comment further. Instead, she now proceeded to cast her wand in an intricate motion and suddenly, the image of the Chambord castle became distorted and a different, far more majestic and more fairytale-like castle emerged into view.

"_Bienvenue à Beauxbatons! _Welcome to Beauxbatons!_"_

From the corner of his eyes, Harry saw Sebastien grimace at Fleur's delighted exclamation and he had to agree. Their mission to save the world had just hit rock-bottom.


	3. Chapter 3

_Steps Three_

_Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Headmistress's Office _

Madame Olympe Maxime's office reminded him vaguely of Albus Dumbledore's. Portraits adorned the walls with most of the occupants already asleep and dozing off in their respective frames. There were stacks of scrolls kept neatly in high shelves. On the Headmistress's desk was an array of crystal plates that had been charmed to hover above one another in perfect symmetry. Closer inspection revealed them to contain an assortment of sweets: macarons, éclairs, millefeuilles and other colorful sweets.

But that was where the similarities ended. Although Albus Dumbledore's office housed many precious items, including a phoenix, Madame Maxime's was pure extravagance and lavishness. Fantastic sculptures, tapestries of soft palettes, shell-like textures, ornamental mirrors, stuccos and ornate furniture presented an asymmetrical space filled with flourishes, sweeps and broken curves. The two main colors within the office, namely gold and cream, seemed to blend together effortlessly. The soft palette complemented the gleaming coat of arms with the two golden wands and six shooting stars that hung majestically behind the Headmistress' seat.

Said coat of arms was momentarily obscured from view when Madame Maxime rose to full height. Extending a hand royally towards Sebastien who promptly dropped a kiss at the back of her hand, she warmly welcomed them with a small smile, "_Bienvenue à Beauxbatons_. Welcome to Beauxbatons."

"Lord Krum," she inclined her head, which Harry promptly returned, albeit not as elegantly. "_Et Monsieur Dubois, quel plaisir de vous revoir. _And Monsieur Dubois, what a pleasure to see you again." A fond smile appeared and Harry could sympathize more with Fleur's irritation with Sebastien. The Headmistress did not conceal her favorites.

The Headmistress gestured towards the plush sofas and they moved to the smaller salon where more crystal plates and glasses appeared, filled with various delicacies and beverages.

"_Mademoiselle Delacour, asseyez-vous s'il vous plait._ Mademoiselle Delacour, please seat yourself."

The blonde witch blushed slightly at the admonishment for her anxious hovering around the guests and quickly seated herself on the chair to Harry's left.

With everyone seated properly, the Headmistress did not wait any longer to get down to business.

"_Monsieur Dubois, la soirée retrouvaille est prévue le mercredi 20 mai 2007, je suis désolée de vous dire que vous êtes venu trop tôt. En fait, vous avez encore dix ans à attendre. Donc je n'ai aucun choix que vous demander : pourquoi cette visite?_ Monsieur Dubois, the evening reunion is planned for Wednesday, the 20th of May 2007. I am sorry to say that you have come too early. In fact, you still have ten years more to wait. Therefore I have no choice but to ask you: why this visit?"

Harry was surprised to realize that he understood perfectly what she was saying. Then he noticed the faint blue glow lining the contours of the sofa he was sitting on. Glancing up questioningly, Harry met Fleur's eyes and she silently mouthed, "Translation spell." Understanding dawned on him and Harry turned back to the conversation at hand, more immersed now that he could understand what they were talking about.

"_Madame, vous savez que j'ai été choisi comme le tuteur personnel de Lord Harry Krum. Il y a beaucoup de choses qu'il doit apprendre – vous savez bien comment sont les anglais, particulièrement leur presse. Il a besoin de développer son caractère, de s'habituer aux coutumes de la noblesse, alors je croyais qu'une visite de Chambord l'aiderait à mieux comprendre nos traditions. _Madame, you know that I have been chosen as the personal tutor of Lord Harry Krum. There are many things that he has to learn – you know well how the English are, especially their press. He needs to develop his character and become accustomed to the customs of the nobility, so I thought that a visit to Chambord would help him to better understand our traditions. "

"_Et vous savez très bien que le Marquis de Dubois n'est pas très ravie avec ton choix._ And you know very well that the Marquis of Dubois is not very happy with your choice."

"_C'est mon choix._ It is my choice. "

"_Oui, et je le respecte. Même si votre père pense que notre école est la raison pour votre ruine. Mais franchement, Sebastien, que faites-vous ? Et Lord Krum ? Avec la guerre et la conférence à Genève – ce n'est pas le temps de faire des promenades au milieu de la nuit. Il faut que vous soyez plus responsable._ Yes, and I respect it. Even if your father believes that our school is the reason for your ruination. But truly, Sebastien, what are you doing? And Lord Krum? With the war and the conference in Geneva, it is not the time to take walks in the middle of the night. You should be more responsible."

"_Nous avons nos raisons. Je vous demande, juste cette fois, de ne pas nous arrêter._ We have our reasons. I ask just this time that you do not stop us."

"_Mademoiselle Delacour dit que Lord Viktor Krum ne sait même pas ce que vous faites. Vous connaissez bien les vœux sacrés d'un mariage en saigne._ Mademoiselle Delacour says that Lord Viktor Krum does not even know what you are doing. You know well the sacred vows of a marriage in blood."

At the mention of Viktor's name, Harry felt guilt clawing at him. The gentle feelings were still very fragile and new, and they pressed at his conscience like three stamping steps.

_Once…_

_Krum Estate, West Wing Suite _

_Harry watched, completely fascinated by the movements in the adjoining room. He had woken up late and had only exerted the least required effort of turning on his side and raising himself from the bed covers to search for his missing source of warmth, only to find said source rummaging through the cupboards of a kitchen that had sometime during his deep slumber been conjured into the living room area. _

"_Vot is it?" his husband asked, having turned to see his stare with several plates levitated mid-air. The question was light, but his dark eyes were serious and Harry's heart warmed because he knew that those eyes were always attentive whenever they focused on him. _

_Flashing Viktor an impish grin, Harry ducked under the covers again. The covers muffled the sound of his husband's amused chuckles, but Harry heard them and relished in the sound of pure contentment. He was feeling exhilarated from all the new emotions that Viktor induced within him. For the first time in his life, Harry felt safe and free, and he savored every minute of it. _

_Even if the asylum and the marriage ceremony had been a rush, disorienting and impromptu, Harry was relieved that Viktor and he were able to get accustomed to married life at their own pace. Even if things were very much on the verge of spiraling out of control what with the advent of war on all fronts – as much as Harry fervently wished for it, he knew that political asylum would not be able to stop the war in Britain from eventually crossing the channel – this, Viktor's sharp profile, dark, guarded eyes, hidden smiles and quiet laughter, calloused hands that held so much strength and just as much shyness in their hesitant touches, had the promise of stability. Despite it only being five days into their so-called honeymoon, which both Harry and Viktor with their background of paparazzi and fan clubs would rather term it as a sanctuary from the prying eyes of the world, Harry felt, as strong arms suddenly engulfed him from above the blankets and a chaste kiss was dropped on his covered cheek, that he could finally have a home. _

"_I want breakfast in bed," Harry grinned as he imitated the pompous tone and posture of snobbish aristocrats that he had perfected after years of miming Draco Malfoy during the bedtime games of charade in the Gryffindor Tower. _

_Suddenly, his blankets were yanked away and Harry let out a surprised yelp, before instinctively curling his body from the freezing cold. But warm arms grabbed his form and carried him unceremoniously out of the room and into the sunlit kitchen where he was plopped gently down onto a beautifully carved wooden chair. _

"_Breakfast is served, Lord Krum" said the smug voice of one very satisfied Viktor Krum. _

_Mock sulking, Harry picked up a toast and munched angrily at it, whilst trying to suppress a smile amidst the amused chuckles that he was getting to know so well. _

_Twice…_

_"Viktor?" Harry reached out to touch his husband's back. _

_His husband was fixedly reading over the parchment that had arrived with the owl that morning while they were washing the dishes. Despite the horrible memories of household chores done within the Dursleys household, Harry found out that the Muggle way of washing dishes with Viktor, although much more time consuming in part because they kept splashing soap and water and chasing each other around, was undeniably fun. _

_From the one touch, Harry could feel his husband's magic. It was restless and Viktor was clearly trying to suppress his emotions so as to not cause any accidental magic. _

_Harry closed his eyes, knowing that it had finally happened. They had only had five days of peace and yet it was already too much. He let Viktor's warm hand cup his face and looked into those dark eyes, accepting what he had to hear. _

"_They are hosting a conference in Genève. All the families, ve must all gather together to decide on our measures for the war. Last night Voldemort has issued an ultimatum and the British Ministry of Magic has requested for help," Viktor paused and moved to hold Harry in his arms before leaning down to whisper in his ear, "as well as for Harry Potter." _

_Harry stiffened in Viktor's arms. "How could they know? I thought the Fidelius or whatever the spellmasters did-" _

_His tirade was interrupted by a gentle finger on his lips. "It is not one of us. Ve protect our own. The spell does not allow anyone to speak of the ceremony or our union without our consent. They must have guessed that you would be in Europe. Someone must have seen our departure through the International Floo Network." _

_Harry's anxiety must have shown on his face because his husband held him tighter. "Do not vorry. Ve will safe." At those familiar words, Harry buried his face in Viktor's wizard robes, trying to memorize the scent. _

_Although the moment was too short and too soon, both sides pulled reluctantly away from the warm embrace. _

"_You must go." _

_Thrice…_

_At the sight of the stack of books laid out in front of him, Harry blanched and suppressed a groan. This was worse than studying for their O.W.L.s and maybe even worse than the N.E.W.T.s, in fact, he might have just finally found himself even against Hermione for the first time in their years together at Hogwarts. _

_As he filtered through titles like "A Wizard's Guide to Tea," "Bloodlines: A History," "The Lordly me" – this one induced a momentary shudder as it brought to mind the self-obsessed Gilderoy Lockhart whose copies of Magical Me were as betted by Ron and the twins, still secretly stashed away on Hermione and Mrs. Weasley's bookshelves, "French for the beginning wizard," "The Highest of Pureblood Etiquette," he secretly wished time would go faster so that he could retreat back to the West Suite. _

_This was yet another glitch in his marriage. While other newly-weds could have a completely free honeymoon to immerse only in themselves, Viktor and he had pressing schedules that demanded part of their evenings to leave their sanctuary and rejoin the world, although this world was now only limited to the immediate family and close acquaintances of the Krum family. _

"_Daydreaming, Lord Krum?" _

_Standing up so quickly that he almost toppled over the chair, Harry glared at the intruder. "You should learn to knock." _

_Smiling charmingly with all the ease of a self-confident wizard, Sebastien strolled leisurely into the room and settled on the opposite chair. _

"_If I were the learner, I wouldn't be getting paid for it, and rather, handsomely at that." _

_Harry huffed in annoyance, but tried to conjure a mask of indifference in case he was further admonished for not following proper protocol. Watching as the French wizard called for the house-elf and was served dark coffee and a plate of macarons, Harry recalled Lady Krum's hesitancy during the introduction of his new personal tutor. _

"_He comes highly recommended. At least, by Viktor," Lady Krum explained as their footsteps echoed against the granite floors of the Northern Gallery. "It is a bit different for one to have a tutor so close in age. My personal tutor was at least twice my age, so Master Dubois wouldn't have been my obvious choice. But since it is Viktor's decision and now that you're Viktor's husband, it is beyond me. According to his profile, he graduated top of his class and is apparently very talented in dueling the Dark Arts, so that might explain the reason behind Viktor's choice. His family is also of good standing." They both stopped in front of the doors leading to one of the libraries where Lady Krum turned to look at him, her beautiful eyes so much more expressive very different than those of her son and husband's filled with concern. "I know it must be hard for you since Viktor and you must be already working though it is so early into your marriage. Even today, Dimitar and Viktor must attend a meeting with Minister Obalonsk. But there is a war coming and we must be prepared." A delicate hand was gently placed on his shoulder. It felt cooler and more controlled than the hugs that he had received from Mrs. Weasley, but Harry was grateful for concern and acceptance, and he rewarded her with a small smile, which was returned in her eyes. "Good luck, my dear." _

"_Macaron?" The round sweet was offered towards him. _

_Harry shook his head and turned his attention back to the book in front of him, only to have it plucked from his fingers into the agile hands of his tutor. "Hey-" Sebastien ignored his indignant exclamation in favor of giving the book a cursory glance before throwing it aside. _

_Blue eyes bore into his and it reminded Harry yet again of how deceptive the French wizard's carefree character actually was. _

"_Well?" An elegantly sculpted eyebrow arched in question. _

"_Can we just get on with the etiquette lessons? I thought we were going to discuss bloodlines today as well as how to address different titles, a more detailed version than the first session about why it's Lord Krum instead of Mr. Potter?" _

"_Your mind is elsewhere and something is bothering you, so we might as well get on with it first."_

"_My mind is not elsewhere," stated Harry defensively. _

"_Yes, it is," came the smooth, aristocratic drawl. _

"_You don't even know me for more than 5 days! And that's only for a couple of hours each day!" Harry's words were becoming agitated and he instantly berated himself, knowing he had lost the battle already because as everyone around him seemed to be repeating over and over, the only way to win a battle in this game of dangerous words and hidden agendas was to keep one's cool – something that he was failing miserably at despite consecutive sessions with one of the most emotionally controlled persons he had ever encountered. _

_Sebastien's satisfied smirk confirmed his defeat as the French wizard instantly fired back, "You didn't know Viktor for more than a couple of months and you married him." _

_Harry huffed in indignation before dropping his head into his hands, wanting to wrench his hair out of his head. That was usually the effect that Sebastien had on him. _

_Vaguely he registered the shift in weight through the table. Sebastien was leaning forward with his signature concentrated 'this is business' look. _

"_You know that I took the vow as your personal tutor already," his voice was quiet, "I can never betray any of your confidences or ever harm you." _

_Harry wanted to childishly point out that he had not even been present during the ceremony that Sebastien had undertaken to become his personal tutor. Viktor had simply apparated while he was asleep, and had returned when Harry woke up with a relieved look on his face before informing him of his evening classes. Harry had never gotten around to asking about the role of personal tutors, as it seemed to be an unspoken knowledge shared by all the aristocratic families, although he suspected that the Krums being one of the most ancient families in continental Europe must have some additional requirement involved, some sort of powerful magic that could inspire such loyalty and dedication. Perhaps some sort of Unbreakable Vow, but what would have to be the price for someone to take such a post? _

_Even if he did not like how Sebastien could very often and with uncanny accuracy predict his actions, he had to begrudgingly accept that whatever vow had taken place had certainly given him a personal tutor who could keep him out of trouble. He was also incredibly skilled at getting Harry to confide in him. _

_Harry slid his chair closer to the table before recollecting the events of that morning, "A letter arrived today…" _

Now Harry was watching Sebastien weave that very same magic of rhetoric with the Headmistress of Beauxbatons.

"_Oui, je sais tout. Alors, s'il vous plait, Madame, laissons nous aller à la lumière noire._ Yes, I know everything. So please, Madame, let us go to the dark light."

With that statement, Harry realized belatedly that Sebastien must be losing his touch because he had just revealed the purpose of their mission, something that they had both steadfastly agreed to be of utmost secrecy.

"_La lumière noire_!" The Headmistress's voice rose in a sweeping crescendo. "_C'est interdit. Tous les étudiants ont fait le promet, vous aussi!_ It is forbidden. All the students have made the promise, you as well!"

Fleur's blue eyes had widened in shock and Harry's hand found his wand, a comfort just in case the situation got out of hand. Sebastien seemed to be truly losing his touch.

However, the French wizard appeared unconcerned with the impending explosion, and his voice remained calm and steady.

"_Nous y allons. Avec votre permission ou sans votre permission._ We are going. With your permission or without your permission."

"Sebastien-"

"_Madame, s'il vous plait, c'est moi, Sebastien Dubois, l'héritier du Marquis de Dubois et votre étudiant, et je vous dis que c'est une question de vie ou de morte._ Madame, please, it is I, Sebastien Dubois, the heir to the Marquis of Dubois and your student, and I am telling you that this is a matter of life or death."

In spite of their short acquaintance, Harry knew that it took a lot of effort for Sebastien to say the sentence that came so close to being a supplication.

That and the stubborn set of his jaw if nothing else must have convinced her because the Headmistress sighed before relenting, "_Bon, vous avez ma permission, mais pas ce soir. C'est trop dangereux, attendez jusqu'à l'aube_. You have my permission, but not tonight. It is too dangerous, you must wait until dawn. "

The relief that the two wizards felt was palpable. Sebastien bowed his head deeply in gratitude.

"_Je vous remercie, Madame._ I thank you, Madame."

Madame Maxime only shook her head softly. She seemed to be struggling internally, but she summoned enough protocol and propriety to dismiss them perfunctorily. "If zou will excuse me, Lord Krum. Mademoiselle Delacour will escort zou to ze guestrooms. _Prends-soin de vous-meme, Sebastien_. Take care of yourself, Sebastien."

Sebastien kissed her outstretched hand and they began to file out of the office.

Before passing through the door, Harry glanced back to see the Headmistress of Beauxbatons lean back into the cushion and close her eyes, her lips forming silent words that sounded like a prayer.

He shivered.


End file.
